The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2492 by Angharad Copyright© 2014 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

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Had I heard that right? The European Space Agency were going to land a probe on a comet. It was due to happen sometime this week—wow and there’s me trying to park my little ol’ Jag in a space about the size of a airfield. I eventually managed to deposit the car where I wanted to—this never happens with bikes—and locked it.

“Havin’ trouble parkin’ it, luv?”

“No, I always enjoy going to and fro, it helps the python I have on the back seat, go to sleep.”

“You got a snake in your car?” his voice rose an octave.

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“You can’t drive round with a snake in your car.”

“Sez who?” I challenged.

“The law.”

“What law is that then?”

“You can’t have dange-rous ani-mals in your car.”

“She’s not dangerous—well not since she ate next door’s Doberman.”

“She ate a dog?” His voice rose again.

“Yeah, she crushed it first, it was dead when she swallowed it. Wouldn’t want her breakfast walking around inside her now, would we?”

“That is gross.”

“Nah, just nature.”

I opened the back door and looked inside the car. I felt him peering over my head, trying to see the snake. He wouldn’t, there wasn’t one. “That’s funny,” I said out loud.

“What is?” he asked taking the bait.

“She was here a few minutes ago.”

“What—the snake?”

“Yeah, she’s like bloody Houdini, always escaping. Where are you Monty?”

“Monty? I thought you said it was a she?”

“It is, but Monty Python sounds so original doesn’t it?”

“Original? That bunch o’ poofs from Cambridge called ’emselves Monty Python, years back.”

“Did they, I’ll have to write and tell them I called my python Monty first.”

“When did you call hi—her Monty then?”

“Just now, you heard me.”

“No, when did you name it Monty?”

“Last week, when she ate next door’s rabbit.”

“That snake’s a menace.”

“Not really, she just gets a crush on things—doesn’t understand her own strength.”

“What are you, some sort of nutter?”

“How can you say that—my psychiatrist said I’m quite sane. I suspect he knows more about it than you.” This was such fun, though I promised to get back with the milk more quickly than it was taking.

“I think your shrink was nuttier than you.”

“You say the nicest things—Monty, where are you? Come to mummy.”

“You’ve lost him?”

“He could be in the boot—could you look?” I pressed the thing on my key and the hatch door opened—my entertainment took to his heels like the devil was after him. I went into the shop and bought two six pintas of milk and got back into the car.

I saw the policeman walk up to the car. Damn, this would delay things even more.

“Excuse me, madam, did you have a snake loose in this car?”

“I’m sorry, officer, why would I do that? I don’t particularly like snakes.”

“This gentleman seems to think you had a python called Monty in your car.”

“Monty Python? That was a TV show years ago.”

“So you haven’t had a snake in your car?”

“No, the odd dormouse, even a spaniel, but no reptiles.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m a biologist, I think I know a snake when I see one.”

“So why did this gentleman say you told him you had an escaped python loose in your car?”

“I’m a scientist not a psychiatrist, officer, so I have no idea.”

“So you didn’t say you had a snake in your car?”

“Officer, I’m a university professor, I have better things to do. I suppose he also told you I couldn’t park a car?”

“I don’t think so, professor.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I have dormice to count.”

“Uh yes, of course.” The copper stood back and I nodded and drove away the last I saw of him and the village idiot was him waving his finger at the man who’d called him.

“Don’t worry, Monty, I won’t tell them you’re an invisible python,” I said as drove home with the milk. Wonder if he’ll criticise the next woman he sees parking a car.

“Where have you been, Mummy?” Livvie squealed.

“I got distracted by some bloke criticising my parking, why?”

“Why? We have to be in school in an hour.”

“Here, I handed her a bottle of milk and she ran off to the kitchen with it.”

“I thought your parking was quite good.” Offered Stella

“He didn’t.”

“You didn’t hit him, did you?”

“Course not.”

“But you did get your own back?”

“What makes you think that?”

“The smirk on your face to start with—what did you do?”

“I asked him to help me find my escaped python.”

“You what?”

“I told him I had an escaped python in my car and asked him to help me find it.”

“Wasn’t called Monty, perchance?”

“You must be psychic—that is genuinely awesome, or was it awful?”

“You’ll get yourself arrested one of these days?”

“Why?”

“Wasting police time.”

“I didn’t call any police.”

“No but you implied a danger to others.”

“Did I?”

“An escaped python would constitute a threat to others.”

“Especially an invisible one.”

“What’s invisible?” asked Danni picking up her schoolbag.

“Your mother’s python,” said Stella, sighing.

“You have an invisible python?” Danni had a look of incredulity mixed with contempt.

“He’s not invisible to me, just to everyone else.”

Danni shook her head, “Mum’s had one of her turns, everybody,” she called into the kitchen and they all laughed.

“You’re only jealous,” I huffed and walked into the kitchen switching on the kettle.

“She’s got an invisible python,” said Danni from the doorway.

“Eeek,” squealed Mima and Cate together.

“It’s not invisible,” I protested.

“Yeah, only she can see it,” continued Danni.

“Wish I ’ad one,” sighed Trish, still seated at the table.

“You can borrow it if you’re a good girl.”

“Thanks, Mummy, has it been fed?”

“Yeah, I gave him a traffic warden for breakfast.”

Trish, who’d just taken a sip of milk, snorted it everywhere.

“Ugh, you messy pig,” called Livvie, wiping her arm, though Trish was too busy wiping her face to listen.

“See if you’d had imaginary children, you wouldn’t have had to rush off for milk for their breakfast.”

“If someone hadn’t left the bottle we did have out on top of the Aga, I wouldn’t have needed to get any either.”

“It wasn’t me,” denied Stella, blushing furiously.

“No of course not, it was Monty.”

“Absolutely,” she agreed.

“Who’s Monty,” asked Trish.

“The imaginary python, who else?” Danni said dismissively.

I shrugged and made my tea.